The Migrant - 1

The indigo light of noon suffused the city of AzureEye. Red inlays all over the city darkened to full black in the rich blue light. It was the middle of the day, but the colour made Caidrun feel sleepy: on the Inward side of the Spine Range, the light did not turn this color until midnight, and noon was a brilliant silver, charged with energy. He grasped the leather loop to hold himself steady (all around him, other passengers did the same) as the tram paused and its head lurched upward, treads seeking purchase atop the next level of the city wall like a caterpillar climbing onto a leaf.

Steam hissed. Bolts rattled. Treads clanked. AzureEye was both darker and noisier than his home city. Here, steam-trams could be seen rising up to make arcs over crowded streets and even rows of houses in order to get to their next stop. They looked like sea monsters, or maybe Sluggard himself, in his dancing days.

Caidrun had migrated across the Spine Range, from Inward to the Edge several months ago. A new city, a fresh start. He’d gone from one large city to another: They were known as the Eyes of Sluggard, one on either side of the Spine. He still missed the bright green light that greeted each morning in the electrically-charged SilverEye. In AzureEye, Greengem was not until evening, and was more of a greenish haze beyond the Spine than a true illumination of the air.

While growing up in SilverEye he had never noticed the way the colours affected every aspect of life, from clothing to architecture to popular euphemisms. The light might just as well have been the colour of water, for all he’d taken it for granted.

Suddenly every shift in the serpent’s spin, every reflection off a different gem-wall, was vividly apparent. Caidrun supposed he should thank his migration for that.

The tram finished its arc and ground to a halt. Caidrun counted his fare from his remaining few coins, clattered down the thin metal steps and onto the curb. Steam swirled his dress coat as the tram took off. Caidrun readjusted his coat. Most people in AzureEye wore heavy buttons on their sleeve-cuffs and hems for exactly this reason; especially ladies.

Caidrun appreciated the practicality of this particular fashion, but needed a job before he spent any money on clothes. Contrary to the doggedly cheery missives he’d penned to his sister, he needed a job before he spent much more on anything. This afternoon he was on his way to an interview. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment with a few sentences and a rudimentary map in 3 pieces, each denoting a level of AzureEye. It was quite a hike from the tram-stop to his interview, but the heavy boots with thick soles that had served to ground out current in SilverEye were up to the challenge. Crumbling masonry and steep, leaning stairways were no problem. Caidrun resisted the temptation to splash in long puddles showing jagged reflections of the Cavern roof, unimaginably high above.

His destination proved to be a two-storey building that backed up to one of AzureEye’s many city walls. The place looked more like a home than a business. There were shutters beside the windows, and the eaves were trimmed with wood carved in fussy shapes. Someone had painted these red, but that had been years ago and they no longer turned black in the indigo light. Caidrun took a deep breath. He tried to survey his reflection one last time in the window before knocking, but a large man in uniform abruptly appeared in the window. The bowl of his pipe glowed bright orange, then he disappeared for a few seconds before flinging open the front door and demanding to know what Caidrun wanted.